A Pocket hymn book, designed as a constant companion for the pious ‎#CCXVI

CCXVI. Father, I stretch my hands to thee

1 Father, I stretch my hands to thee,
No other help I know:
If thou withdraw thyself from me,
Ah! whither shall I go!

2 What did thy only Son endure,
Before I drew my breath!
What pain, what labour to secure
My soul from endless death.

3 O Jesu, could I this believe,
I now should feel thy pow'r;
Now my poor soul thou wouldst retrieve
Nor let me wait one hour.

4 Author of faith, to thee I lift
My weary, longing eyes;
O let me now receive that gift;
My soul without it dies.

5 Surely thou canst not let me die!
O speak, and I shall live!
And here I will unwearied lie
Till thou thy spirit give.

6 The worst of sinners would rejoice,
Could they but see thy face;
O let me hear thy quick'ning voice,
And taste thy pard'ning grace.

Text Information

• First Line: Father, I stretch my hands to thee
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1788
• Topic: A Prayer for Faith
• Notes: Now Public Domain.

Tune Information

(No tune information)